Do You Believe in Elves?
by Tie-dyed Trickster
Summary: From the kink meme. England is sick of everyone mocking his belief in the fae, and decides to summon some that EVERYONE can see- Germany? Prussia? What the heck are you two doing in the array? Established FrUK, pre-Gertalia at very end. Rated for angst.
1. Proof

Hiyas! This is my first fill (from the kink meme), and I'm not sure if this is what OP wanted... in fact I'm pretty sure you had something else in mind... But I thought I'd give it a shot! Hope you like it at least a little!

The Prompt: _Inspired by a comment on a previous fill._

Grandpa Germania has been consistently referred to in reference to a certain - individual of Lord of the Rings fame. Taking that idea one step further - what if Germania actually is_ Legolas?_

Pause for effect.

No, that's not quite what I meant. Not really. I've read a couple fics that speculate the mythical kingdoms of Gondor and Rohan (etc etc) are located approximately in central/western Europe. What if Germania is_ an elf? He's got the hair, he's got the looks - and have you noticed, we've never seen his ears..._

This means - Prussia and Germany are actually part elf.

...

How does this affect them? Do they have any special powers/elfish traits? Reactions to this becoming public knowledge (Kudos if neither of them really knows - can you imagine Prussia's reaction to being called a fairy?)

Disclaimer: I don't own Hetalia. And, after seeing this, that's probably a good thing…

Do You Believe in Elves?

Part 1

"They do so exist!"

France groaned. Honestly, how had a perfectly nice afternoon devolved into this? One moment he'd had a very pleasant armful of adorable, willing Brit, the next he was in the middle of this old debate and in danger of being kicked out of his _amour's_ house.

"_Mon amour_, please, be reasonable," he coaxed pleadingly, "Let's just forget I brought this nonsense up at all…"

"No, I will not forget, because it is not just nonsense! If I could only make you _see_-" England paused mid-rant. Then he smiled. France felt a chill go up his spine. "I'll prove it to you – I'll _show_ you!" he leapt off the sofa and headed for the basement. "There has to a fae you can see out there _somewhere_, it's just a matter of finding them! And _then_ we'll see who's crackers!"

France sighed, but got up to follow his excitable _amour_. He'd really hoped it wasn't going to be one of those days.

Xxxx

"-TOORE NI-EH!" England finished the incantation and held his breath.

The circular array before him began to glow with its usual green light. Sparks of silver and gold began to dance around the circle's perimeter, then swirled to coalesce in the center. There was a flash, a bang, a puff of smoke, and two figures landed in a heap in the circle.

Darkness.

"_Owa_…"

"_Mein Gott, mein armor kopf_…"

France chuckled from his spot next to England. "I must admit, _Angleterre_, at least you have learned how to fail with style."

There was a rustle of fabric and a quiet chuckle. "Shows what you know, frog. That was a successful summoning, or I'm Queen Elizabeth!" Another rustle as England walked over to the rack of candles which had been extinguished by the spell. He snapped his fingers and a spark landed on the closest candle, which he used to light the rest. He was grinning. "You can't dispute your own eyes, France. Behold!" he brandished the candles at the circle and the figures within it, "The Fae!"

Two very _familiar _figures, actually…

"Hey, England! What do you want the awesome me for?" Prussia looked up at England backwards from where he lay, sprawled on his back on top of Germany inside the circle. Prussia looked like he'd just crawled out of bed and Germany was dressed for one of his early morning training sessions.

France walked over to England and, with a chuckle, bowed. "_Bon jour_, your majesty. I must say, you are looking remarkably well for a lady of your age."

"No…" England was shaking his head. "It's not possible, I _felt _the magic work… There must be some explanation…"

Germany spoke up at this point. "_Bruder_, get off of my back."

Prussia turned his head to the side. "West? What are you doing down there?"

Germany, interpreting this as an indication that his older brother was not going to move of his own volition any time soon, pulled his hands under his chest and pushed himself up, effectively rolling Prussia off his back and into the edge of the circle.

"_Owa_…" Prussia rubbed his head and looked around. "What did I hit? There's nothing there…" his gaze dropped and he noticed the array he and Germany were in. "Aw, _scheisse_…"

France, meanwhile, was watching the other three nations in amusement. "So, _Angleterre_, what is your excuse this time, hm? I know, these are not really Germany and Prussia, they are a pair of your fairy friends disguised to look like them!"

Prussia froze from examining the array and slowly raised his head to look at France. "Fairies? _Fairies_? Are you associating the awesome me with those flighty little-"

The rest of the sentence was not to be known, as Germany chose that moment to tackle him at waist height. A scuffle commenced.

"_Scheisse_, West! Get your un-awesome self off of me!"

"_Nein_! You will do something imprudent!"

"You heard what he said, _Bruder_! We can't stand for stuff like that! We, who are of the proud blood of Germania, mightiest of the-"

Germany slapped a hand over his brother's mouth. "It's your fault we're even in this situation," he hissed, glancing at France and England warily. England was watching them with narrowed eyes and an unnerving expression. "If you had just renewed the wards last week when I told you to this could not have happened!"

Prussia licked Germany's hand, and Germany pulled it back hastily. "Hey, it's not like this sort of thing happens often enough to worry about it all the time! Besides, those two aren't nearly awesome enough to figure out-"

"Elves."

The German brothers froze again, and both snapped up to look at England.

The bushy-eyebrowed nation was smiling. "You're elves. Both of you. I have no idea why I didn't figure it out sooner…"

France glanced sideways at his be-robed companion. "Eh, _Angleterre_, I know you are disappointed that your little game fell through, but this is stretching things a bit far, _non_?"

England shook his head, grinning. "Look at them, you stupid frog, look closely! Look at their hands, their faces. Hell, look at their ears!"

France rolled his eyes, but looked. And gulped.

It was easier to see with Prussia. He had always looked slightly unnatural, with his red eyes and silver hair. France seriously wondered how he'd missed the other things, though, like the length and elegance of the nation's fingers and hands, the faint sheen of… something in his skin, the slight tilt to his eyes.

And the ears.

France really did not know how he'd missed the ears for so many centuries. They tapered into delicate points that ended about an inch above Prussia's eyebrows.

With Germany it was a bit harder to tell, his ears were smaller and he'd apparently tucked this tips under his cap and hair a bit at some point, but they were there, along with all the other signs.

"Mon Dieu…" France breathed.

Xxxx

TBC…

So, like? Hate? Shall I continue posting this here?


	2. Surprise!

AN: Woo, sorry for taking so long to update! Here's the next chapter! ^^U

Disclaimer: I don't own Hetalia. Which is why I'm posting this here and why there aren't any posters of Canada available for purchase.

"I don't know what you are seeing, France, but it's not real! England must have cast an illusion or something-" Germany blustered desperately.

"Ah, give it a rest, West." Prussia clapped a hand on the taller man's shoulder and grinned, showing eye teeth a touch longer and sharper than normal. "They got us fair and square! The secret's out! We're-"

"You're fairies!" France burst out.

"ELVES!" Prussia roared. "Gott im Himmel, Francis! Do you see wings? A flowery tutu? Me shouting 'Hey, listen!' every time I want your attention? No, wait," he paused for a moment, thinking over what he'd just said. "That last one's just in the Zelda games, never mind…"

Germany rubbed his forehead wearily. His books didn't say what you were supposed to do in situations like this. What was the correct course of action to take when two of your old acquaintances discovered that you were not, in fact, the species they thought you were but, in actuality, a member of a species 'everyone knew' didn't exist?

Prussia had no such worries. "Anyways, _ja_, West and I are elves, secret's out. Now can you let us out of here?" he tapped the invisible wall holding the two nations in the array. "My cereal's probably getting soggy."

England considered this request for a moment. The array he'd used was meant to contain whatever he summoned, since he hadn't known exactly who would show up in response to these summons (and he'd never _dreamed_ that these two would show up!) and didn't want to put himself or France in any unnecessary danger. Mostly France – he was confident in his ability to handle anything he could call up. But he _knew_ these nations; they all knew each other. It should be safe enough to let them out.

Then again, one of said nations was Prussia. Which meant he'd have two members of the infamous 'Bad Touch' Trio loose in his house…

But he couldn't keep them there forever. Not justifiably, anyway. So with a sigh and the flick of a wrist, England dismissed the barrier.

Prussia, who had been leaning against said barrier, fell out of the circle with a grunt.

Germany strode out into the room stiffly. "_Danke schon_. If you will excuse me, I must get going. I was supposed to meet Italy for training this morning and I have an important meeting this afternoon. _Auf Wiedersein_."

As he walked past France and England there was a faint distortion in the air. When it ended, Germany looked as he normally did – no pointy ears, no otherworldliness. He paused as he reached the door and turned back for a moment. "I would greatly appreciate it if the three of you would not tell anyone of this."

"Hey! Why are you including me in that? Don't you trust your own _bruder_?"

Germany raised an eyebrow at Prussia, who glowered but looked away. "Fine, I won't tell anyone and I'll re-set the wards today."

"And you have my word of honor that I will not reveal your secret." England stated solemnly.

"And mine as well." France added.

Germany relaxed slightly and nodded. "Danke. Chus." And he left.

Well, that's Germany out of the room. But something tells me Prussia's not going to be leaving as easily as all that. England's going to want some answers... 3

I have some things that are cannon for this story in my head, but which I can't figure out how to put in, so I'll be mentioning them down here as we stumble by them. The reason Prussia has slight fangs is that he's a dark elf, night elf, whatever. They tend to look a bit scarier than normal elves and are more mischievous, more chaotic, and thus a bit riskier to deal with. I felt all this fit well with Prussia's image and personality. Germany's a normal elf, so he's got normal teeth. I figure for the most part that the dark elf and light elf thing doesn't have the biggest factor in their relationship... mostly because I'm a sap who likes to picture a world where all elves can live together in relative tolerance.

'chus' is German for 'bye' - it's more casual than saying 'Auf Wiedersein'. The former you'd use with friends and family, the latter is more for formal occasions. I meant to show that Germany was feeling a bit less tense after getting their reassurances, and so was being a bit more casual in his address.


	3. Explainations

AN: Hiyas, everyone! (waves enthusiastically) Sorry that I'm being a bit slow in updating – that's just the way I am…

Disclaimer: I don't own Hetalia. If I did, the main characters would probably be more along the lines of Middle Earth and Ankh Morpork…

The other three stayed where they were for a moment before Prussia stood up and dusted himself off. "Well, I guess I've got to get going to-" a hand on his arm cut him off.

"Oh no you don't, you bloody wanker," England was smiling a bit too widely. "Germany may have work to do, but you're going to stay here and explain exactly how all this works."

"And why would the awesome me do that?" Prussia shook England's hand off to show how unimpressed he was.

"To keep things on friendly terms." England never stopped smiling, but his expression darkened. "Because you've been mocking me and my 'imaginary friends' as long as the frog over there has, and I want to know where you get off doing that when you _knew_ I was telling the truth. And I will find out. I may not be of elven stock, but I ken the old ways – probably better than you do. And if you force me to, I will bind you by wood and iron and your True Name, and I will _make you_ tell me what I want to know."

Prussia and France both gulped and took a step back from England, who was exuding an air of menace that could have rivaled Russia's. It was times like this, when the burnt scones and the needlework and the empty bluster were stripped away, that really drove home the fact that this man in front of them was once the bloody British Empire. And one does not become an empire by being a push-over. Or particularly nice.

"Well?" England pressed, voice still deceptively calm and level, "What's it to be, Gilbert?"

Prussia slumped a bit. He knew when he was beaten beyond any hope of resistance. "The iron wouldn't work," he spoke quietly, "West and I wouldn't have survived into this century if iron hurt us. The other stuff would work, though."

"Why didn't you tell anyone?" England persisted grimly. "Why did you join them in mocking me when you _knew_ I was right?"

Prussia got a bit of his usual spunk back and, folding his arms, scowled at England. "And how would that have looked, hm? '_Ja_, old Artie's right about all that mystical magical crap, but I can't tell you why.' They'd think I was as crazy as you!"

"Why not tell them the truth, then?"

"Hey, I don't care if everyone and their kid brother knows about the awesome me!" Prussia shot back, then chuckled mockingly to himself, "But then again, that's the sticking point, isn't it? The kid brother…

"If I told about myself, how long do you think it would take people to start wondering about West? You guys know his history – you think he'd have fared any better than his people against that man? How long do you think he'd have lasted if people knew? A week? Maybe a month? Well, Arthur? _How long_!" Prussia's face was flushed and he was starting to pant a bit out of exertion, but there was a mix of fire and steel in his eyes. "He's not as good as me at using our heritage, and he's too damn loyal! He'd be torn to pieces – he would probably have walked in front of the firing squad under his own power if they'd ordered him to! And, by old Fritz and my grandsire Germania, I WILL NOT LET THAT HAPPEN!" his head dropped and his next words were barely more than a whisper. "I almost lost him once. I won't let that happen again."

Silence reigned supreme as England and France watched the pale man in front of them.

Finally, France stepped closer and laid a hand on his friend's shoulder. "Do not worry, _mon ami_. It will not happen, not by our doing."

"Indeed." England nodded. "And I cannot fault your reasoning for keeping this from us." The menace was gone, and he was once again his usual, un-intimidating self.

Prussia nodded. "Thanks, guys." Then he stiffened and his head jerked up again, an expression of awful realization on his face. "_Schiest_!"

"What?" the other two nations looked at him nervously.

"I just realized!" Prussia gave them a woebegone look. "There's no way I can get back to the house before my cereal gets all soggy, now! Aw… I really hate it when that happens…"

England facepalmed.

Wow... that took a darker turn than I had originally planned out, I'm not gonna lie, but still, I think it's in-character with Prussia, at least somewhat. Btw, anyone care to guess where I stand on the whole HRE=Germany theory? ;D 

Prussia's acting the way he is out of concern and 100% platonic familial love for his little brother. And, speaking as one who has also nearly lost a sibling, I'd say that his reaction is pretty in-character. (Plus, I tend to picture Prussia as a slightly over-protective older brother. He's just reeeeeally sneaky about it, so nobody notices! 3!)


	4. Glamourous Breakfast

**AN: Sheesh, I'd planned to have this entire fic completed by now… I'm sorry for the delays, but University started and life got hectic. If chapter 5 isn't up in two weeks, someone give me a poke – I'll rectify the situation immediately!**

Disclaimer: Still don't own Hetalia. I think we can all agree that this is probably for the best…

France laughed. "If that is all that concerns you, _mon ami_, then do not fret! I shall make you a proper breakfast, _oui_?" he glanced at England for confirmation.

For once, England didn't argue and merely looked resigned. "I dragged you here. I suppose the least I can do is give you a meal."

Xxx

"I'll ask again," France expertly flipped an egg in the pan, "How did you keep us all from noticing your… ah, more _distinctive_ features all these years?"

"Glamour." Prussia replied easily from his place at the table. The conversation had been moved to the kitchen, for the sake of convenience and because Prussia had flat-out refused to answer any more questions until he was fed. "'s a kind of disguise magic. You saw West use it before he left."

France recalled the brief distortion in the air that had occurred before and nodded, then glanced over at England. "I'm surprised you aren't asking more questions about this, _mon amour_."

England snorted. "I already _know_ about glamour and the like, France. I'm the 'crazy Brit' who plays with his imaginary friends all the time, remember?" he gave Prussia a speculative look. "It's more a matter of finding out how good he is at elven magic and how much elven blood he's got in him that interests me. I know it's enough to use glamour and have the Sight."

Prussia looked amused. "Who says I've got the Sight? And what makes you think I'm not full elf, Artie?"

England gave him a pitying look. "If you've got enough elf in you to use glamour, then you've got the Sight. Besides that, you used to be a _nation_, Prussia. That means you're at least partially of nation stock." He paused and then peered at Prussia more closely from his seat across the table. "That's why you're still here, isn't it? Your elven blood."

Prussia looked down at his cup of milk (England didn't keep coffee in his house and had flatly refused to give Prussia a beer), "It might be." His tone was casual, but his shoulders were tense. "I mean, it's not like we really know how we work – why some of us disappear and others just change, why some remember and some forget…"

France decided to interject before the conversation delved any deeper into such depressing territory. "Can you explain some more about this glamour, _mon ami_? I thought it was looks only that it affected, _non_? That it would not hold up to a touch…?"

England turned in his chair and raised an eyebrow at him. "So. You _do _pay attention to me sometimes."

France gave a winning smile. "_Oui_."

Prussia's own grin was back. "Normally, _ja_, that's how elven glamour works, but West and I are different like that – we can cause actual physical changes about small things… like ears. We can maintain the glamour longer, too. I'm better at it than _Opa_ Germania was, and West is even better at it that the awesome me! He can cast and hold a constant glamour for about a month before it starts to even make him tired, and another two weeks before he starts running the risk of it failing on him!"

England whistled. "Impressive."

France nodded, "_Oui_. Admitting anyone is better than him at anything – I thought I'd never see the day!"

xxx

**Prussia... why do you keep trying to do a nose-dive into angst on me? Seriously, my head-cannon of Prussia is not particularly dark. I just keep tripping over all these sensitive topics in this fic...**

'Opa' is German for 'grandpa'. Prussia referred to Germania as 'grandsire' earlier because I was trying to make him sound formal and serious, and I don't know a more formal word for grandfather in German, though I'm sure there is one out there. Prussia is referring to him as 'Opa' now because he's feeling relaxed and casual.

I'm not as solid on the specifics of glamour as I am on other things, but I'm pretty sure I got it accurately. I'm going for more a mix of folklore than one specific branch of it. And it seems very natural to me that Germany would be good enough that he could maintain a glamour for a long time and even in his sleep (Which, coincidentally, is why Italy hasn't figured anything out yet...).

Also, the milk. The fae have a link to milk - you left a bowl out for the brownies or fairies to earn their favour, and elves used to steal it. To me, this points to an undeniable fact: the fae _**really**_** like milk! So, since Prussia can't get beer, he's gonna go for the next best thing! ^^! ...yes, have just proved beyond a shadow of a doubt that I am a total geek about fantasy and such. Which you had probably figured out as soon as you saw I did this fic... ;)**


	5. Milk and Magic

**AN: Well, here it is, chapter 5!**

**Disclaimer: I don't own Hetalia. Not Axis Powers, not World Powers, none of it. I do have a very nice set of posters of some of the characters... but it's not the same… (sighs)**

Prussia glowered while England sniggered. "Hey, I'd be upset if he _wasn't_ better than me at this! It's the only thing he's good at, so he's had a_ lot_ of time to practice!" Not to mention a lot of incentive, but Prussia didn't mention that bit, instead going to take another sip of milk, only to discover his cup was empty. "Could the awesome me get another refill?"

England rose and got the jug of milk from the fridge.

"You might as well just leave it next to him," France commented as he deftly flipped the perfect eggs onto a plate and handed it off to Prussia, "-_Bon appetite_!- It's his third glass already!"

England bristled a bit – mostly annoyed that he hadn't thought of this himself – but left the milk on the table near the pale elf-nation. "I'm a bit surprised at that - I'd have thought Germany would be an expert at elven magic by now, what with the way he's always studying those books of his on how to do things properly."

Prussia shrugged. "He _does_ know stuff," he explained as he ate his eggs, "I made sure to teach him everything I know, everything _Opa_ Germania taught us, and West is a great student. Not as awesome as me, of course, but still pretty awesome. He studies hard, takes notes, studies them too… But he can't remember spells, no matter how hard he tries, and, if by some miracle he does get a spell down, he can never get it to work properly. He knows all sorts of stuff about theory and all. He just can't _do_ any of it beyond glamour. 's like he's got a block in his head or something that won't let him." Prussia abruptly stopped talking and focused on his eggs. He had his theories about why Ludwig couldn't do magic. Possibly it was because Roman had been so good at it, so it had been locked away with the rest of it after… after that time. His other main theory was that he'd burnt out most of his power that one time, in his effort to survive and keep his promise.

But Prussia wasn't about to share these theories with the other two. They were a bit too private and about a tiny piece of history a bit too dark for even Prussia to feel comfortable talking about openly.

"I take it that that's why he's trusting you to do the wards?" England inquired dryly, noting the way the conversation had started to skate around that one time in history you _never_ talked about with the Deutsch brothers, _especially_ not with France in the room, and steering the conversation onto a lighter path.

Prussia grinned as though nothing had happened. "_Ja_. He hates it."

"What is it that these… wards… do?" France queried as he sat down next to England across from Prussia.

"Prevent what happened today from happening." Prussia grinned. "Protective stuff, ya know? So West and I can't be summoned as anything other than nations, and so our glamours aren't broken if we are summoned somehow."

"Why not just make it so you can't be summoned at all?" France's hand began inching its way towards England, without either of them seeming to notice. "It would be much safer, _non_?"

"No, someone would notice eventually." It was England who answered. "Nations can be summoned, much like beings of a more fantastical persuasion."

"Oh?" France raised an eyebrow. His hand was almost within groping range. "And how would you know that, _mon Angleterre_?"

"Been summoned a few times myself." England replied easily. Without looking down he picked up a fork off the table and stabbed it into France's questing hand. Hard.

A string of high-volume, multi-lingual profanities erupted, generously interspersed with howls of pain.

Prussia watched with amusement as the two nations began a minor reenactment of the 100 years war. Partway through it somehow managed to turn into a make-out session. Prussia took this as his cue to leave.

Swallowing the last of the milk, Prussia stood up from the table. "The awesome me will be leaving now! _Chus_!"

"Hm? Oh, yeah, fine…" England mumbled distractedly.

France was too busy doing the distracting to respond.

Prussia smirked to himself as he left the house, stepping onto one of the secret roads the fae traveled to get from place to place quickly and invisibly. He still had to set up the wards when he got back to the house, but before he did that, he had a phone call to make.

After all, Hungary would be _so_ disappointed if she knew she'd missed out on something like this…

The End (until the omake!)

**Yup, that's it, except for a few little last bits I was unable to fit into the story, but wish to share.**

For starters, Prussia actually enjoys doing the wards - it's something only he can do, which is gratifying. He drags his feet about it because he doesn't want anyone to know this. Also, Hungary knows about Prussia being an elf. I figure it this way: the two of them grew up together. He knew her when she thought she was a boy, she knew him when he hadn't perfected glamour. The two know lots of secrets about each other. It also felt right that Prussia would set Hungary on France and England after all of this. After all, he needs to get a _**little**_** bit of payback for them summoning him and his brother like this. And he is a dark elf - they're mischievous little buggers like that! ;)  
**

**In my head France and England have a steady relationship going, but it's very volatile, and is comprised of arguing with each other almost as much as being romantic and stuff.**

**As for Germany's inability to use spells, this was another of those things that just felt right. And one of Prussia's theories is my headcannon for this story. Care to guess which?**

Yes, I'm going with the theory that nations can be summoned the same as a supernatural entity (coughEpisodeWithRussiacough). And I think it makes sense that England would have seen the inside of a summoning array on multiple occasions, considering his history. And he's _**c**_**e**_**rtainly**_** not going to mention that whole incident with Russia to two members of the Bad Touch Trio! ^^**

I hope you've enjoyed reading this, even if it probably wasn't what OP originally had in mind! See you at the omake!


	6. Omake

**AN: Here it is, the last segment, as I promised. **

**Disclaimer: I don't own Hetalia. Which should be obvious by now… (shifty eyes)**

**Omake**

Italy smiled as he slipped into Germany's room in the moonlight and climbed into bed next to him. He loved nights like tonight, even if they did mean that Germany had had a really tough day. Italy couldn't help it – he liked seeing the mask slip, and Germany always looked so peaceful on these nights…

The pasta-loving nation just lay there for a moment, watching his friend's sleeping face, before reaching out and gently tracing a pointed ear with one finger.

The differences were so small you'd barely notice them, especially in the moonlight, but Italy was an artist. And artists learn to see the details.

Of course, it was easier if you knew what you were looking for. If you remembered the rare times Grandpa Rome had succeeded in getting Mister Germania to pull his hair back.

…if you remembered the days when your first love still hadn't quite perfected his control over his glamour.

The realization had come slowly, and at first he'd been sure he was kidding himself. But the similarities were too great, especially after the first night he had come upon Germany like this.

He didn't know why Germany had forgotten everything, and it made him sad when he first realized that it wasn't an act, that the other nation really didn't remember. But Italy took comfort from the fact that he was alive. They both were.

And one day, he'd remember. And Italy would be waiting for him when he did.

He smiled gently, then leaned forward and brushed his lips against his friend's forehead before snuggling down next to him. "Ve~ I'm still waiting for you, Ludwig. I'll wait as long as you need me to…"

The End

**Yup, that's it! Hope you enjoyed!**

**Here's a few last bits that I couldn't fit in, but which are my head-cannon for this story:**

**Italy isn't as oblivious as most people think he is – he does notice stuff going on around him. He just doesn't comment on most of it or do anything about it, so people don't realize he's noticed.**

**Holy Roman Empire had a really hard time controlling his glamour at first, so he practiced with it a lot. It's one of the reasons Germany got so good with it so fast, even though he doesn't remember (I'm going with the idea that it's a bit like a muscle memory). Also, the lack of control over his glamour was part of the reason for the burning aura HRE used to get sometimes when he was watching Italia.**

**Germany is actually quiet adept at elven society and emotions and such. The problem is, they're different than human ones in some ways, and when he was a young nation Prussia put a huge amount of emphasis on the importance of no-one finding out that they were part elf, to the extent that Germany became mildly terrified of mixing up human culture and elven culture. It's one of the reasons he reads all those how-to books.**

**In Italy's art studio there are two covered canvases that no one's allowed to look at. One of them is a painting he's still working on, of Germany asleep in the moonlight like he is in the previous section. The other is of a small blond boy with pointed ears and dark clothes running through a forest.**


End file.
